


Home to Mother

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: When Major Kevin Richards delivers a lecture to the oldest of the O'Donnell sisters, he gets an even harsher one in return.  While it may have done little good in getting him to back off his interference in their personal lives, it certainly gives the team an earful on that intercom they'd jimmied.  And although there is gratification along with the amusement and entertainment, still, it gets one team member thinking, perhaps too deeply, and going into protective mode, deciding to maybe do a little interferring of his own.





	Home to Mother

**Author's Note:**

> This one gives a much closer look at the Clan - the customs, the culture, the outlook on life - than has been given before; it helps make better sense of some of their reactions in current and future stories, as well as the reactions of those coming into contact with them. Admittedly Caeide might not have been so blunt, so open, but as she told the Major, she was overly tired and more than a little annoyed with him for continuing to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted or appreciated. If it's all a little more than you wanted to know, just skim til you get back to the 'good parts', but don't blame her if later on if you wonder 'what the hell???!'

The guys were in the Common Room, their usual gathering spot when Major Richards arrived with one of the Clanswomen, not Meghada, looking for Lieutenant Garrison. The Lieutenant was in town, and Sergeant Major showed the visitors to the office to await his return. As soon as they knew about it, the guys opened the intercom door and hit the bypass they'd rigged to listen in when it amused them to do so. They'd made a pact, right at the beginning, that while they knew some of what they heard might be interesting and some might be amusing, some might also anger them, be things they'd have wished they hadn't heard, but that once the group decision had been made to turn it on, they'd stick with it. So far, nothing had happened to make them reconsider. They all had a drink in hand, were cooling down from that heavy workout the Sergeant Major had just put them through, and were ready for some diversion, so the timing was right.

At first there was silence, then, with a hard thud as the door closed abruptly, Major Richards burst out, like he couldn't help himself, obviously continuing a conversation that was already well started in the car. "Caeide, I still say I cannot imagine you and your family are accepting this! I thought you'd put a stop to it once I told you of that scene I walked into at the cottage." The men knew what he was talking about; after all, Goniff had been part of that scene, and the other men had listened with glee when Major Richards had sputtered his way through an accounting with Lieutenant Garrison. They did try to get as much entertainment out of the intercom as possible.

** A Month Ago**

Major Kevin Richards was beside himself, and Lieutenent Garrison was watching as the Major ferociously paced up and down his office at the Mansion.

"It's appalling, that's what it is! I drive up to the cottage and go up to the open kitchen door, and there your pickpocket is, pressing the woman up against the kitchen counter, leaning flat up against her, his hands holding her wrists on the counter on each side preventing her from moving. It's obvious what is going on, or so I thought, so I tell him to stand back immediately! The cheeky little bastard has the nerve to just glance over at me, cock one eyebrow, with a smug look I wanted to use my fist to remove. He doesn't say a word! She doesn't even look at me, SHE just tells me to leave, she's occupied! Well, from that smirk on her face, it's obvious I've misread the situation, of course, but that doesn't change the fact that it was all highly inappropriate! I tell her I've come to see her and she suggests, "tomorrow, Major, yes, tomorrow might work," and leans over toward your man, rubbing her cheek along his, showing absolutely no shame. I tell her I've driven in to see her, and to see you too, and I have no intention of waiting til tomorrow! "Then go see Garrison, and then . . ." That man of yours, he does something, I don't know what, but she shivered and gasped, and it's like she totally lost her train of thought! Her eyes even glazed over!" he shouts at Garrison.

The guys upstairs exchange a glance and raised eyebrows, each wondering just what Goniff did to cause that reaction considering his hands were supposed to be occupied on her wrists, but not taking the time to discuss it amongst themselves, though Casino made a mental note to ask the little Limey some other time; this with Richards was just too good to miss any of it!

"I tell her "Then I'll be right back here, where you and I will discuss SEVERAL matters!" "No, then you can go to the pub and have a drink," and she pauses to lick her lips and drop a kiss on the side of that smirking mouth, "maybe a few drinks" she makes this little humming sound in the back of her throat, "have a hot meal, play some darts or cards," she inhales sharply, catches her breath, swallows deeply, (And NO I still don't know what he did to cause that!) then starts again, "whatever you like, and I'm sure, sometime, I'll join you there. Later, Major, sometime much later."

"I start to tell your man that he needs to get himself back to the Mansion, and that I'd be having a word with both you and him over his behavior, and she turns to look me in the eye, and I'll tell you, Garrison, it was the most disconcerting thing. Seen a look like that before; friend has one of those bloody great mastiffs, gives you the same kind of look, like it wouldn't take anything for it to tear out your throat."

Upstairs, there is a roar of laughter from the men, while below, Garrison is wavering between cursing the bad timing of the Major's visit, and secret amusement at the outraged propriety of the British Major. It was especially funny since he knew what the Major meant; they had all seen that look on Meghada's face before, only that time in earnest. Of course, thought Garrison, she might have been in earnest this time too! Later, they tease Goniff about his 'mastiff', but he only laughed, not embarrassed at all, and said, "Major's got it wrong, mates; she's a Dragon, not a mastiff."

He never answered Casino's questions either, about what caused the reactions that so infuriated the Major, just grinned smugly. There were some things even his best friends just didn't need to know, like just how much those long full skirts of hers hid if they were careful; how if he'd stepped back, well . . . , and the thought made him laugh. {'Just like that magician and the Mayor's wife - We'll 'ave to try that again, it was good before 'e walked in, but 'im standing there, yelling, not guessing, that just really . . ."}

**

"Yes, Caeide, I have gained respect for Garrison's men, they are good at what they do, they are fulfilling their duties well, but really! After all the difficulties arising from her not allowing any familiarity whatsoever from anyone she encountered, now this? Perfectly respectable men, officers, gentlemen even, offer some attention and they end up flat on the ground, sometimes in hospital, but one of Garrison's men, he's given free rein? I simply cannot understand."

"And even if you chalk it up to some of the stranger things that happen during wartime, the war will end, and what then? He, and his friends, might not take so kindly to his being discarded once she has better choices available, not that she doesn't now, which again is why I do NOT understand!" his voice rising as his speech concluded.

The silence in the Common Room was thick, the guys took quick glances at Goniff, who had gone very still, jaw tightened, eyes steadfast on the table in front of him. Casino made a mental note they were going to have to get a new deck of cards, this one had just been crumpled past repair, between the Englishman and himself.

"Kevin, I am fond of you, you know that, but have I ever mentioned that you are quite often an idiot? I put it down to being career military, myself. It instills a certain rigidity of the mind," the voice was quite similar to Meghada's, but seemed older somewhat, and weary. "How long have you known the family? Surely you've figured out that we are quite different than your people. Otherwise, why would your group have come to us in the first place? Why would a fifteen year old girl be given the kind of assignment you sent me on? You've known Meghada since she started her first contract. She's the Dragon, she lives by the laws of the Clan, she adheres to Clan values."

"Sit down, let me pour out some of the Lieutenant's not-so-excellent bourbon, and let me try to explain something, Kevin. It may take awhile; I'm far too tired, have been too long without sleep, and it's not so easy to explain to an Outlander anyway, so forgive me if I ramble. Before I even begin to talk to you about Goniff, you need to understand more about me, about Meghada.

"I am not of the Warrior mode, like Meghada; it was known from my early years that I would end up where I am, running a family enterprise. Accordingly, I had a different, much more, you might say - benign - training. However, I still had the usual Clan education, and spent my Internship year, from my thirteenth birthday to my fourteenth, with outside mentors, and my one and only contract was undertaken when I turned fifteen when I worked with you. Of course, as you know, I still do an occasional run, when absolutely necessary; you've arranged that more than once."

"Funny enough, considering the initial object of this discussion, my Internship year was spent in the East End of London; my three mentors were all from there. I'd actually met Goniff there, in a very casual way." That raised a few eyebrows in the room above.

"From the older of the women I learned how to run a small business, a pub, including keeping three sets of books (one for the government, one for the local mob who wanted their payoff based on profits, and one for herself), brewing, winemaking, herbcraft (to supplement my own family's training), how to size up and deal effectively with all the different personalities who frequented the place, how to deal effectively with whoever was needful, actually, from the bobbies to the local fences, to the suppliers, you get the picture."

"From the younger woman, I learned the female lay; how to use makeup to change my age from child to old woman (or old man, for that matter), to change my appearance and behavior so as to fit in anywhere: I could be a filth spewing whore, or her pounce; I could be a lady of the gentry, or a wide eyed country girl; I could be a lady of quality, or even a young gentleman of quality, depending on the need. I learned how to gauge a mark, know if a man really had the information I needed or if he was just puffing himself up; I also learned how to know if a man was more likely to let me go, call the bobbies, or beat me half to death if he caught me in a con."

"From Peter, my third mentor, I learned a lot of what those men above count as their specialities; how to pick any pocket, or place anything into a pocket, for that matter; how to win or lose any card game I sat down to, based on what I wanted or needed to happen; how to open most locks and safes (though not the big hotel type safes, though I learned who to call on if I needed one of those done); I could write up and sign a letter from your Mother, and even if you'd received a letter from her each week for the past ten years, you'd have accepted mine without hesitation; I learned to speak as if I was from Liverpool, East End, or any of a dozen other distinct locals, and you'd be hard pressed to guess I wasn't born and raised there. From him I learned to take the bad breaks life hands out, and keep going. I learned how to make an effective mask, not one of paper and fabric, but one that comes from understanding what you need to project, and doing it so well, so consistently, that that is what someone sees when they look at you."

She grinned, "Peter didn't do much second story work, like Goniff. He's a lot like Meghada's laddie in build, more a willow rather than an oak, surely, but he's rangy, rather than compact. He's just a bit too tall for the high work, but he branched out in other areas to make up for it." 

In the room above, a quick frown on Goniff's face, a quirk of his head, as he remembered his days in the East End. He'd thought he'd recognized the woman when he first saw her in the garden, only to realize it wasn't her he'd known before, but someone so like as to be indistinguishable. He didn't remember if he had ever mentioned that to her or not; he rather thought not. Now, the pieces came together, and he remembered {"Peter . . . Peter Newkirk, yes, it was 'im trained the other one that year; 'is skills, alright."}

"It sounds rather as if you were quite fond of this paragon of the illegal virtues," Major Richards said stiffly.

"Fond? No, not fond. Meghada and my cousin Briana, both of whom took lessons with him, though I'm the only one he officially mentored, are fond of him. I love him, totally, unreservedly. If he returns from this war, if I can get him to finally accept that the twelve years difference in our ages is no longer important, any more than the time he spent in prison is relevant to how I view him, if he hasn't found someone else he fancies, if he doesn't decide to wait til he finds someone else he fancies, if that stubborn pride of his will stop putting up difficulties, if, if,."

"He might not ever chose me, I've long since chosen him, and I'll have no other. Like a very old song my family favors, that would be offering false coin, for I've no heart left to give, for he holds it totally. He knows me for what I am, I know him for what he is. We value each other, as we are. The first time he saw me, I was just a bit past my thirteenth birthday. I had just killed two men from a predator gang who attacked my other two mentors, and was in the processing of killing another two. He took it remarkably well, considering, and subsequently agreed to mentor me for the remaining months of my Internship."

Obviously responding to the muffled noise and probably offended face on the British Major, "you needn't look so shocked, Kevin; they were members of a gang who sought out and stole children for the specialty brothels; Marisol had spotted them as they went after a pretty pair of blonde twins, about seven or eight years old; she raised the alarm and they failed in their attempt. Their attack on Marisol, and Maude, just because Marisol was in Maude's pub at the time, was because they wanted to send a message that no one got away with interferring with their business. I'd no regrets then, and none now about putting them down like the vermin they were."

"Understand, Kevin, if I were ever fortunate enough to take Peter home to the family, they'd be most pleased with him; in truth, they already look on him as family whether that ever comes to pass or not. If I were to take you home, well, as other than the friend you are now, the family would be very polite, very courteous, and probably, IF you were lucky, unless I was VERY persuasive and called in some heavy favors, slip you a micky and put you on a train to who knows where, and pack me off to seclusion in the middle of a jungle somewhere, til I came to my senses. If I, instead, brought home one of those fine young aristocrats from Whitehall that you seem to think Meghada should favor, or one of your young officers, most likely my mother would have us both buried in a shallow grave on the far hillside; him for daring to raise his eyes to one of the Clan, me for thinking to contaminate our bloodlines with the like," as Richards' eyes bulged in shock.

"But a pickpocket from the East End, that's just fine?" his voice rising somewhat.

"Actually, if my sister had chosen any of the men above, it would have been fine. They all have qualities the Clan would respect. Well, the Lieutenant, he would take more than a bit of convincing with the family; the Clan has a bad history with military officers, especially Americans. It's just that Goniff, he's the one that, how do I put it, calls to her soul."

"Just as we are different, what we value is quite different than from what you Outlanders value. Oh, perhaps not so different from what you SAY you value, but different from what you seem to really value, different from the way we interpret those values anyway. It may be due in part to a difference in language, in interpretation; it is certainly due to a difference in culture."

"We value loyalty, kindness, courage, gentleness, strength, skill, the capacity to love, the capacity to kill, as the occasion merits, adherance to duty, the call to vengeance. In your world, courage seems to equate to bravado, an outward show instead of an inward steadfastness; loyalty is something to be purchased, strength recognized only in the physical, kindness and gentleness considered weaknesses, many of the skills we value are things you disdain, capacity to love vilified unless it falls within the incredibly narrow channels you deem permissible, and the capacity to kill valued only if it suits a current political purpose. Your concept of duty seems so warped to me that I don't see how you manage to figure out where it lies at any one time. Vengeance, your culture teaches, is something to be foresworn; that it is more virtuous to hold yourself above vengeance, not taking vengeance makes you morally superior, and all that sort of rubbish. To the Clan, vengeance is something you owe, as a duty, to your Clan, your family, your friends, and to foreswear rightful vengeance is to show yourself a moral coward, unworthy to be called Clan."

She sighed deeply, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension left from the past few days. "Speaking of the capacity to love, did you know we have at least six basic relationship descriptions in the Clan, Kevin? We have Ta'l, the unbonded. There is Ta-shea, like me, where I am bonded, but with no return bond in place. We have Ta-Ket, a bonded pair. You also might keep in mind that ALL bondings are equally valid - between male and female, male and male, female and female, or in any combination thereof. From then we get to Ta-Duan, dual bonded pairs, two people are bonded to each other, but one of those is also bonded to a third person; in some rare cases both of the original bonding pair are bonded to other individuals, but there are different descriptions as things get more and more complex. Again, gender is not relevant to the titles, any of the titles. We have Ta-Beart, which is three people forming three bonded pairs, each is bonded to the other two, and the expansion of that, Ta-Shaen, where a Ta-Beart grouping also forms a true triad, that is, while there are three bonded pairs, there is also a bonding between all three. Those are the basics, there are more complicated variations, although they are relatively uncommon."

"Sometimes I think you tell me these things just to give me a disgust of you, Caeide!" he huffed.

"No, Kevin, just to remind you that you don't truly know us, have little true understanding of us; therefore expecting us, any of us, to follow your dictates, your reasoning, your concept of 'morality' is just not logical. And, I'll admit, perhaps to rid you of the idea that I'll ever be willing to have any sort of personal relationship with you, so you can stop hinting. I'm taken, Meghada is taken, accept that."

"Kevin, you made your opinion of Goniff quite clear; while you have come to accept his role as a member of the team, value it even, value his skills, you are appalled at his relationship with my sister. First, I'll say that I genuinely like and respect the man. He's done whatever has been asked to accomplish these missions, first for the purpose of achieving parole, now probably more to safeguard his teammates. I value his skills, I value his loyalty, I value his courage - not bravado, Kevin, courage. He has survived his imprisonment, he does everything the missions require, he has killed when needs be, though I think it doesn't come easily to him and he pays a higher price than some, proven steadfast when captured and interrogated, and he still hasn't let what he has experienced change the one thing most remarkable about him - he has probably the kindest heart of anyone I think I've ever met."

She spoke more fervently now, "let me tell you, my dear Kevin, I've watched my sister work her way thru six years of contracts with your military. Six years! Even for a Warrior, before the war she'd have been limited to four years at the most. I've seen her lose her ability to smile, to allow anyone close; I watched her lose her joy, which she'd once had even more than her share of. Music was as much a part of my sister as breathing itself. She sang, played, wrote both the music and lyrics beautifully. She'd stopped singing, except when a mission required it, other than in her own home, and then I think, rarely. I don't think she'd written music for the past five years or more, and that is one of her true talents."

"Do you know, she wrote a song of praise after she returned from her spirit quest that, when a visitor, a churchman, heard it being performed, said it was one of the most stirring tributes to the power of His Lord that he had ever heard. When he learned it was a song of praise for Mother Erdu, he was appalled, said no, the writer must have been guided by his Lord, perhaps calling the writer to His side. Grandmother introduced him to Meghada, she was about ten years old then, had written the song when she was eight. She laughed and told him, no, she knew very well who had inspired her. Before he left, he asked her for a copy of it, and asked if he could have his choir perform it. She agreed, saying it would be no insult to the Great Mother, and she'd be pleased to share. Told us later that it gave her great pleasure, imagining the Great Mother and his Lord, sitting, sharing a cup of honey'd mead, listening to the song together some summer's eve. The Churchman would have had an apoplexy if he had heard her," she laughed. "Ask her to sing it for you sometime."

"Kevin, she was losing herself under all the masks she had to wear to complete her missions; I think she was doubting that, if she removed all the masks, there would be anyone left, whether she would just drift away as a cloud of mist."

"I have also watched, in the past few months she's known him, as she has come to life again; I see her as I'd known her growing up. I have seen her smile, heard her laugh again. She writes music again, and she sings! Oh, Kevin, to hear her sing again! And not just in that show voice she uses, but in her own voice. She looks at him and she sees him, knows him, respects and appreciates who he is under his own masks, and loves him as he is. He cares about and worries about the other members of his team, and he opens her heart enough that she has done the same. She had narrowed her world to three categories: Clan, not-Clan but NOT NECESSARILY the enemy, and Enemy; I don't know how much that can shift, but it's shifted at least a little, because of him. He sees her, at least as much as anyone raised outside the family could, and accepts what and who she is."

"I'm not saying that sometimes she probably doesn't make him more than a bit uneasy; none of our women are particularly comfortable companions when, how do I put it, the Clan in them boils forth. But he doesn't seem to condemn her for any of our strange ways, or for her skills, or think she has to change who she is; he doesn't try to use her for his own ends, to take advantage, either."

The men above didn't see her quirked eyebrow or cynical look as she looked at Richards; he did, however, and flushed.

"He seems to know when she needs to play a lone hand, and when she would welcome a helpmeet. I've met him only a few times, but I am well pleased with him; I gladly welcome him as brother. It amazes me sometimes; I've watched them together, and it's as if I'm watching a particularly well-done dance, each partner knowing just what to do when, always in time to the music, even if it's a music only they hear. It's like hearing a duet skillfully performed, voice weaving around voice, one taking the lead, then the other, melding into a whole that turns the music to magic. So, will our family accept him? Oh, most certainly, Kevin, most certainly."

Above, the men looked at Goniff, his mouth turned up just a bit at one corner, still staring at the drink in his hand. He seemed older, quieter, more self-contained than they were accustomed to seeing him. As he felt their gaze, his face, his posture shifted, and when he looked up at them he was once again the mischief maker, the cheeky little devil they had lived with all these months. The men looked at each other and wondered if maybe they'd just gotten a glimpse of their friend without his masks, the man Meghada saw when she looked at him..

 

***  
Something about that conversation had bothered Casino, however, and after throwing it around in his mind for awhile, decided to talk to Meghada about it. He was fond of that little Limey, damn it! No, he didn't want anyone to know that, either! He just needed to be sure.

He ventured down to her cottage when he knew Goniff was busy with one of the Warden's projects.

"Hey, need ta ask ya somethin," he started the conversation as he appeared at her open kitchen door.

"Well good morning to you too, and yes, I'll be pleased to get you a cup of coffee, and of course we can chat for a bit," she smiled up at him. He didn't crack a smile in return, though, and she was wondering just what was making him so grouchy this morning. She waved him in, got him his coffee, along with a slice of fresh pastry, and sat down across from him at the table. He sat there frowning down at his coffee cup before he looked up at her.

"Was he right? Was that fancy pants Major Richards right? You just waiting til the war is over to find someone better before you dump Goniff? He's just something to, what, kinda tide ya over til then? Just a little Limey pockpocket, a nobody, someone ya figure won't make any waves when you dump 'im?" He was getting increasingly angry, increasingly wound up, his voice rising more and more.

{"He's serious! I can't believe it, but from that black scowl on his face, this idiot is really serious!"} She started to get angry, really angry, in return, til she realized that this gruff man who pretended not to care about much of anything or anyone, had come here because he did care, and care deeply, about his friend, didn't want him hurt. That calmed her down, in fact, caused a rush of warmth toward this really very nice, uh, idiot. Okay, so she wouldn't hit him after all.

"Casino, I'm shocked! I mean really! I could understand if you just thought I was a total bitch, some manipulative, using, femme fatale. But for you to think me stupid, now that really hurts!" all in an injured voice, a pronounced pout on her lips. {"Okay, so I'm overacting, but this seems to call for it!"}

He looked at her slack jawed, with a totally bewildered frown on his face.

"Never said you was any of those things!"

In a much softer, gentler voice, "well, you must think I am to think I'd use him that way." Her voice got even softer, more tender. "And you must think I'm totally stupid if you think I'd go looking for someone 'better', when I've already found the best. I can't imagine anyone who'd suit me better, please me more than that little Limey pickpocket."

She smiled slightly looking over at Casino, and admitted, her voice soft but dead serious, "I can't imagine anyone I could possibly love more. As long as he wants or needs me, I'll be there for him, in this world, probably into the next," she admitted ruefully.

"Casino, Kevin Richards has had a bee in his bonnet about the women in my family for years; I'm thinking of siccing Ciena, or maybe" she said with a really wicked smile, "Coura onto him to teach him a lesson. Who or what he thinks I need or should want isn't important; his notions of who or what is 'better' don't concur with mine. I know who I need, who I want, who I'll always need and want, and that's Goniff, Limey pickpocket extraordinaire." 

She smiled at this gruff man, her lover's friend, and he looked at her, appraisingly, before a huge grin crossed his face. "Better get my ass outta here before he starts thinking I'm trying to beat his time." 

"Don't sound like you've much of a chance a that, now does it?" came a raspy voice from the doorway, where the subject of their conversation stood, leaning against the open doorframe, a warm appreciative look in his eye, a smile on his face, as he looked at these two, his best friend who was trying to look out for him, and his 'Gaida, who intended to be around 'in this world, probably into the next' because she thought she already had 'the best'.


End file.
